Some Katya & Dima stories
“Here you are,” Dimitri pulls up by my drive.
“Thanks a lot,” I grin and glance over at him. Even though he smiles too, it seems tight and sad, and he’s seemed more quiet than usual since we left the bookstore.
I nudge his arm. “You okay?”
Dimitri adjusts his glasses and sifts a hand through his hair in his nervous habit. “Yes. Yeah, I’m fine,” he says hesitantly. He gives me a quarter smile that doesn’t totally reach his blue-gray eyes, and he shrugs, a little lift of his slim shoulder. “I’m just a little embarrassed about getting your gift wrong.”
“Oh,” I wave it off with a laugh. “That’s nothing. I’m glad you thought to get me anything at all. You can always give it to me later; I had a really great time with you today anyway.”
He timidly peers out from under his fringe of wavy hair. “Me too.”
Our hands work their way gently into each other’s, our fingers intertwining playfully. Since we kissed, our relationship has changed into something more; it feels right to finally call him my boyfriend and it actually makes butterflies flutter in my stomach to think of him that way.
But besides a quick peck on the cheek, we also haven’t kissed since then, and I really want us to, especially since the thrill of the moment makes the memory a little hazy; I want to remember and savor every detail about him.
“Eh,” Dimitri rakes a hand through his hair again and glances over the rims of his glasses at me before he smiles, always so shy and reserved but it makes his smiles all the more special. “I do have one more surprise for you. Close your eyes.”
I do and feel the cool air move around me as I hear him take a deep breath before his lips meet mine, and I kiss him back without hesitation. Even though it’s so easy to get lost in the kiss alone, I pay particular attention to the way his fingers tip my chin up, his other hand gently against my neck, the way his soft exhale becomes my air, the way his longer curls tickle against my cheek when he leans forward closer, the way his lips press against mine, soft as a cloud and sugary sweet and something deeper, more intimate and tender.
I’m breathless by the time we pull back, foreheads still touching. His eyes are indigo and gazing straight into mine. I trace a finger along my lips, feeling them tingle.
“Wow,” I gasp softly. “That was the best birthday gift ever.”
****
The chatter in the hallway hums like untuned static in my ears, distorted and jumbled. The loud clang of the slamming locker doors does nothing to help, the noise banging on my brain, my head already suffering from a bad migraine as is. It’s a really sunny day, which makes the weather beautiful but also makes me squint and wince in pain, the light way too blindingly bright. Add to it the radiant glow of auras as the school corridors get crowded before the first bell, it hurts to keep my eyes open.
I can sense her before I see her but can’t match the energy to her, so I nearly jump out of my skin when Katya comes up to me, giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, sweetie – oh, what’s the matter? Did I scare you?”
I force a smile, genuinely happy to see her – the calm pale blue of her aura is delicate but still far too harsh for my senses today. “No. Well, maybe a little.”
“You okay?” she tilts my face towards hers with a frown. “Dima, you look like hell this morning.”
“I’m fine,” I try to reassure her, but with the look she gives me, she’s not having it. “Alright, fine,” I sigh, “I’m not fine.”
“What’s the matter?” she asks, concerned.
I slump against my locker, the metal cool against my back. “I am so tired,” I admit. “I’m exhausted, my head hurts so bad, and I just really, really don’t feel well.”
A loud crowd pushes through the hall and makes me wince, the sound exponentially amplified by my pounding head.
“Oh, Dima,” Katya says, eyebrows drawn. Her hand hovers above my arm, as if she wants to comfort me but hesitates to trigger my senses. Despite the burn, I put my hand over hers and hold on, her touch my solace in the storm.
“Is it psychic-related?” she asks, her voice low and quiet.
I nod.
For the past months, I’ve been trying to build up my psychic shields to better manage my powers. It’s been a lot of trial and error, getting used to dialing them up or down as needed. They’re very effective when they work properly, but I’m still really clumsy at adjusting them and maintaining them, so I too often let them slip too soon or too far. There’s a brutal learning curve to it – it’s definitely helping me a lot in managing the powers, but only when I can do it successfully. Clearly, today I’ve failed miserably.
“The shields are working great,” I tell Katya, “but they’re hard to control and I’m still not good at it. It’s the worst when I think they’re set up correctly and then they just crash, because then the powers overwhelm me completely and I don’t have any strength left to build the walls back up. That’s pretty much what’s happening now.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed up you so much,” Katya starts blaming herself but I shake my head to stop her.
“No, I’m glad you did,” I reassure her. “My entire life, I’ve been fighting for some control over my powers. For the first time now, I’ve been able to get some, and yeah, there are some days like today that make me feel awful, but for the most part, it’s a good thing. I’m glad you convinced me to do this.”
“Really?” she asks unsurely.
I nod, her gentle blue enough to shut the rest of the world out for a moment for me to take a breath and lean in closer. “It’s let me do this,” I meet her lips with mine in a deep kiss.
****
“Can I come in?” Dimitri peers into my room with a tentative smile and a box of donuts, and I can’t lie that seeing the donuts makes me nearly as happy as seeing him.
Dimitri must see it in my aura (or just plainly on my face) and laughs as he sits down next to me on the bed. “I think I have some competition for your heart.”
“Not for my heart, but for my stomach, yes,” I grin and dive into a strawberry frosting donut with sprinkles.
“And I thought they said it was the way to a man’s heart, not a woman’s?”
“Not yours, when you eat, like, nothing,” I tease him and he takes a proud bite of a chocolate donut to prove me wrong.
Jokes aside, Dima’s eyes turn a hazel brown, brows drawn in concern. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s just a sprain,” I gingerly roll my ankle that suffered a bad twist earlier today in practice. The doctor said it’s not particularly injured but I should still take it easy. Definitely no triple axels. The timing sucks; it’s not going to get better before Worlds, so I’ll have to withdraw.
“But it’s still enough to take you out of the competition,” Dima says, echoing my thoughts that he can probably hear anyway.
“Yeah, that part stings,” I admit, picking out a jelly-filled donut from the box. “But this makes up for it.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he says knowingly.
“Okay,” I tug him to me by his shirt collar, tilting his chin down. “Then you make up for it.”
I kiss him hard, chasing the peace and solace he brings me instead of the disappointment churning inside me, and it starts to work for a moment before he pulls away.
“Huh,” I make a small sound of protest but I see his eyes have turned green and bright. “What?”
“I can,” he says, inspired. “I can make up for it.”
“Uh, yeah, so why did you stop kissing me?”
“Because I can do something better.”
I raise my eyebrows suggestively, enjoying the pink blush I paint on his cheeks as he rolls his eyes but ducks his head shyly.
“Not what I had in mind right now,” he corrects me and clears his throat, face composing to serious again. “What I did mean: Katya, I can heal.”
I sit up straighter, realizing what he’s saying. “Wait, really? You would do it? But doesn’t it really weaken you? I don’t want to do that to you.”
“I can try,” he says earnestly, believing. “I think I can pull it off.”
“But what if it hurts you?” I hesitate, knowing he still struggles with his powers. And healing is his weakest skill; I don’t want him to stake too much on this.
“It can’t hurt more than it hurts you,” he insists. “Come on, please, I can help.”
“Okay,” I agree and stretch out my leg so he can work his magic, his green hope contagious.
He puts his palm around my ankle, eyes vivid green like the inside of a jungle before he closes them in concentration. At first, I feel nothing besides a usual tingle of excitement at his touch, but eventually, a soft, soothing heat starts working its way into my skin, like the physical manifestation of Dima’s healing green eyes, and the pain lessens. I catch a breath of wonder and relief.
Then I see Dimitri wince, drawing his hand back sharply as if jolted with an electric shock, and the connection breaks.
“Agh,” he pinches between his eyebrows, visibly in pain.
“Dima?”
“I’m alright, just give me a second,” he reassures, taking a few deep breaths. “I’m okay. Did- did it help? Did I do anything?”
“Yeah, you just tired yourself out,” I push his hair away and touch his face that’s gone pale. “Let me see your eyes.”
“Katya, I’m fine,” he blinks quickly and tries to avoid my gaze but I can still catch a glimpse of red in his eyes. “What about you?”
I test out my ankle, the pain slightly relieved but still throbbing dully and swollen. Meeting his crestfallen eyes, I shake my head sadly.
Dimitri sighs. “I’m sorry,” he starts but I cut him off.
“Don’t be. You tried, and now it’s going to take a toll on you too. I’ll be okay, even if it’ll take a while.”
“But you’ll miss Worlds.”
“So I will. There’s always next season.”
He looks down at his hands with dark brown eyes, as if he failed.
“Hey,” I tip his face up to mine. “It’s alright. Thank you for trying. And for the donuts.”
A tiny smile lifts his lips and I kiss them softly, sweetly until his smile widens. I wrap my arms around his neck as his kiss travels across my cheek, down my jaw, finally resting by my ear.
“Do you think,” he whispers deviously, “that I can make up for it the other way?”